FIC: Frat Boy 9: 'You Think I'm Weird, You Should Meet My Parents' (R)
Title: Frat Boy 9: You Think I'm Weird, You Should Meet My Parents
Author: Thalia (thalialunacy)
Rating: R for language and sexual situations.
Length: 1,455 words.
Summary: Chris takes Karl home to the fam for a holiday dinner.
Warnings: Crack. Non-monogamous relationships. Embarrassing parents. Distinct lack of plot and porn.
Disclaimer: I MADE ALL THIS SHIT UP. Like, a lot, this time. Chris and Karl and Chris's family? Totally not like this, I'm fairly certain of it. Also, don't be hatin, we just like the fuckin.
Notes: Concept (and a chunk of dialogue) taken (with permission) from camesawconquerd's ramblings on my lj; one term stolen from 1297. For the 'embarrassing relatives' square on my trek_crackbingo card. Title, card game, and many other tidbits come directly from my family, no lie. Consider this a monogamist's loveletter to polyamory.
"Oh my God, Dad! Why aren't you wearing pants when answering the door?!"
"Son! Glad you're home for the holidays, your mom was in the middle of pressing my slacks and told me to get the bell and--"
"Why do you only have one pair of pants?!"
"I'm so happy to see you!"
"Dad. Pants."
"Come in, come in, who's this with you, Karl? Hi Karl! Thanks for coming!"
Karl's lips are twitching. "Thanks for having me, sir."
"Hey, now, none of that 'sir' business." He claps a hand on Karl's shoulder and they shake hands.
"Alright, Mr. Pine."
Chris snorts as his father laughs, but the two are (luckily) not doing it for the same reason. Chris puts his mouth next to Karl's ear as his dad turns to lead them into the house. "If you ever call me that again during sex, we are going to have to ask my mother for a referral, because that's just wrong."
Karl's hand is at the small of Chris's back, and not gently. "Says you," he murmurs. "'Please use the daddy voice, Karl, pleeeeeease.'" And he draws it out just like Chris had, oh, maybe 36 hours earlier. They're on break from filming and this is day 5 of 6 of Chris having Karl all to himself before the big man heads back to the islands for the actual holiday… and they haven't exactly been sitting around playing Tiddlywinks.
Chris halts in the foyer and rounds on Karl. "Dick! Scarred for life, here, already, and we haven't even sat down! My father's pantsless and--"
"Trouser-less."
"--and psychotic and you haven't even seen my--"
"Darling!"
"…mother. Oh, Christ." He steels himself, then turns around and allows himself to be pulled into a two-kiss hug. Then he leans back and looks at her face. "Only two martinis so far?"
She pats his cheek. "Uncanny. Always said you should take that on the road. But instead you decided to be--" She waves her hand. "--an actor or something, heaven knows."
Chris smiles at her. "Don't worry, that's just a cover for the Vegas career."
"Well, that's a relief. Tell me you brought Karl to help me come to terms with it. Oh, there he is! Karl!" She gives Karl the double-cheek-tight-squeeze treatment as well, but Karl's Karl so it's no big deal. "You are even handsomer in person. I can see why Chris is willing to put up with the wife and kids."
Chris makes a choking noise as his mother turns away to lead them to the living room. Karl raises an eyebrow. "She knows?"
Chris nods, pinching the bridge of his nose. "They all do. I fucking love my family, and we don't keep secrets. But sometimes I wish we did."
Karl pulls on his elbow until Chris is squinting at his suddenly-close face. He kisses Chris once, reassuringly. Okay and maybe with a little bit of tongue. (Adrenaline is awesome.) "It'll be fine."
"You have no idea, Karl, seriously, I--"
"I know." Karl's grin is huge and dimpley. "But I say: bring it on."
---
A couple hours later, after food and presents -- lots of wine and kitchen-ware, plus some flavored condoms and a stuffed koala -- it gets brought.
"So, Karl," Chris's mom asks, crossing her legs and leaning back into the lazy boy with her latest martini. "Has your marriage always been non-monogamous?"
Chris stops in the doorway, barely holding onto his and Karl's drinks. "Mom, for f-- God's sake--"
But she just waves at him, and Karl seems merely slightly intrigued. "Yes," he answers simply. "Natalie's amazing, and our kids are phenomenal, but we always knew we wanted lives that had that kind of flexibility."
His mother seems fascinated. "So how does it… work?"
"Mom!" Chris sinks down onto the couch.
Karl takes his beer and leans back, settling his free hand on Chris's knee. "It's okay, Chris."
Chris flails a little. "She's got three degrees, Karl. Specifically, degrees in how to ask personal questions and then judge your worth based solely your answers."
"Not that you're bitter."
"Dad, back me up here."
Chris's dad looks up from his book, an utterly confused expression on his face. "What?"
Chris flops back and clutches his beer to his chest. "Never mind."
His mom chuckles, looking at Karl. "Robert's useless if he's reading. He'd miss the next world war if Tom Clancy'd just put out a new book."
"My youngest is like that. Although I don't think he's cracked into Clancy, yet."
"So are you sure they're your children?"
Chris doesn't even admonish, just buries his face in his hands and says, "Kill me now."
Karl rubs the top of Chris's head reassuringly. "Yeah, that's pretty much the one rule. Don't bring home diseases or other people's babies. Well, the second rule."
"The first being?"
"Communicate. And trust each other. Okay, three rules."
"Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition," Chris mutters into his beer.
Karl laughs, delighted. "I knew there was a reason I kept you."
"But wait, what do you trust each other to do? I mean, usually that means you trust each other not to sleep with anybody else, so…?" She looks at Karl expectantly.
Karl shrugs. "We trust each other not to be hurtful. We trust each other to listen. We trust each other to speak our minds and not let things fester, to be honest about what we want. We trust that no matter what, our family remains the most important thing, the bottom line, the foundation."
Silence.
"Well," Chris's mom says, sounding satisfied, "that all makes perfect sense to me."
Chris stands up. "Figures. Who needs another drink? Karl's driving so I guess it's just you and me, Mom. Extra dry?"
---
"What the hell is this game called again?" Karl crows from where he's doubled over the table, clutching his stomach in laughter.
"PIT!" Chris yells, unnecessarily loudly. "CORNER ON CORN."
"You Americans are god damn crazy people."
"Yeeeeahh," Chris says, leaning into him perhaps a mite drunkenly, "but you looooooove us. Sheep fucker."
"Christopher!"
"It's a term of endearment!"
Karl just looks at him, eyes shining. "I might just do, yeah."
---
"Christopher." His mom's voice is low, catching him as Karl says goodbye to his dad.
He looks down at her, and gathers her into his arms. "Yeah?"
"Are you sure you're okay with this?" He doesn't have to ask what she means. He just nods. She studies him a little longer. "And you're happy?"
He smiles. He looks over her shoulder to see Karl standing to the side, quietly watching.
"Yeah," he says. "I am."
---
"Eat all your veg, kiddo," Karl's saying into the phone when Chris pads into the living room in his pajama pants. He slides his arms around Karl's waist and rests his chin against a still-clothed shoulder. Karl's head tilts into Chris just a little. "Or I'll leave your best present here with Chris."
Chris can't hear Indy's reply, and kind of tunes out the rest of the conversation, sleepy and drunk and enjoying the warmth of Karl. Then:
"He's great. We're great." Karl listens, then laughs. "Yes, Nat, the sex is great, too." He reaches up a hand to scrub through Chris's hair lightly. "And I promise I won't knock him up."
"Hey!" Chris mumbles into his shoulder, burying his nose against the fabric. Maybe blowing a little, because he's seven. He hears the final endearments and 'I love you's and then registers Karl turning in his arms, rubbing kisses into Chris's temple and jaw and neck. Chris's cock stirs--he's drunk, yeah, but he's not dead.
He turns his head to capture Karl's mouth in a kiss, and it's just getting exciting, his hips getting along with Karl's thigh nicely, when Karl leans back enough to put their foreheads together. "You okay?"
Chris knows he means with the wife and kids, and bottom line Chris knows he'd rather have Karl than not have Karl, and that thought soothes the occasional twinge. "Don't tell me my mother made you doubt."
Karl huffs a laugh against Chris's cheek, even as his hand is finding its way into Chris's pants. "She wasn't that scary." He starts stroking, slow and hard, like he knows drunk!Chris likes it. Chris leans into it, leans until Karl is possibly the only thing holding him up, and he's distracted by, nay, surrounded by Karl's hand and Karl's warm breath and Karl's everything so he almost doesn't hear what Karl says next.
Then he stops short. "Did you just… did you just call my mother a Vulcan?"
Karl shrugs. "She kept saying 'fascinating'!"
"SCARRED, KARL. SCARRED FOR-- MMMFPH."
FIN
Author: Thalia (thalialunacy)
Rating: R for language and sexual situations.
Length: 1,455 words.
Summary: Chris takes Karl home to the fam for a holiday dinner.
Warnings: Crack. Non-monogamous relationships. Embarrassing parents. Distinct lack of plot and porn.
Disclaimer: I MADE ALL THIS SHIT UP. Like, a lot, this time. Chris and Karl and Chris's family? Totally not like this, I'm fairly certain of it. Also, don't be hatin, we just like the fuckin.
Notes: Concept (and a chunk of dialogue) taken (with permission) from camesawconquerd's ramblings on my lj; one term stolen from 1297. For the 'embarrassing relatives' square on my trek_crackbingo card. Title, card game, and many other tidbits come directly from my family, no lie. Consider this a monogamist's loveletter to polyamory.
"Oh my God, Dad! Why aren't you wearing pants when answering the door?!"
"Son! Glad you're home for the holidays, your mom was in the middle of pressing my slacks and told me to get the bell and--"
"Why do you only have one pair of pants?!"
"I'm so happy to see you!"
"Dad. Pants."
"Come in, come in, who's this with you, Karl? Hi Karl! Thanks for coming!"
Karl's lips are twitching. "Thanks for having me, sir."
"Hey, now, none of that 'sir' business." He claps a hand on Karl's shoulder and they shake hands.
"Alright, Mr. Pine."
Chris snorts as his father laughs, but the two are (luckily) not doing it for the same reason. Chris puts his mouth next to Karl's ear as his dad turns to lead them into the house. "If you ever call me that again during sex, we are going to have to ask my mother for a referral, because that's just wrong."
Karl's hand is at the small of Chris's back, and not gently. "Says you," he murmurs. "'Please use the daddy voice, Karl, pleeeeeease.'" And he draws it out just like Chris had, oh, maybe 36 hours earlier. They're on break from filming and this is day 5 of 6 of Chris having Karl all to himself before the big man heads back to the islands for the actual holiday… and they haven't exactly been sitting around playing Tiddlywinks.
Chris halts in the foyer and rounds on Karl. "Dick! Scarred for life, here, already, and we haven't even sat down! My father's pantsless and--"
"Trouser-less."
"--and psychotic and you haven't even seen my--"
"Darling!"
"…mother. Oh, Christ." He steels himself, then turns around and allows himself to be pulled into a two-kiss hug. Then he leans back and looks at her face. "Only two martinis so far?"
She pats his cheek. "Uncanny. Always said you should take that on the road. But instead you decided to be--" She waves her hand. "--an actor or something, heaven knows."
Chris smiles at her. "Don't worry, that's just a cover for the Vegas career."
"Well, that's a relief. Tell me you brought Karl to help me come to terms with it. Oh, there he is! Karl!" She gives Karl the double-cheek-tight-squeeze treatment as well, but Karl's Karl so it's no big deal. "You are even handsomer in person. I can see why Chris is willing to put up with the wife and kids."
Chris makes a choking noise as his mother turns away to lead them to the living room. Karl raises an eyebrow. "She knows?"
Chris nods, pinching the bridge of his nose. "They all do. I fucking love my family, and we don't keep secrets. But sometimes I wish we did."
Karl pulls on his elbow until Chris is squinting at his suddenly-close face. He kisses Chris once, reassuringly. Okay and maybe with a little bit of tongue. (Adrenaline is awesome.) "It'll be fine."
"You have no idea, Karl, seriously, I--"
"I know." Karl's grin is huge and dimpley. "But I say: bring it on."
---
A couple hours later, after food and presents -- lots of wine and kitchen-ware, plus some flavored condoms and a stuffed koala -- it gets brought.
"So, Karl," Chris's mom asks, crossing her legs and leaning back into the lazy boy with her latest martini. "Has your marriage always been non-monogamous?"
Chris stops in the doorway, barely holding onto his and Karl's drinks. "Mom, for f-- God's sake--"
But she just waves at him, and Karl seems merely slightly intrigued. "Yes," he answers simply. "Natalie's amazing, and our kids are phenomenal, but we always knew we wanted lives that had that kind of flexibility."
His mother seems fascinated. "So how does it… work?"
"Mom!" Chris sinks down onto the couch.
Karl takes his beer and leans back, settling his free hand on Chris's knee. "It's okay, Chris."
Chris flails a little. "She's got three degrees, Karl. Specifically, degrees in how to ask personal questions and then judge your worth based solely your answers."
"Not that you're bitter."
"Dad, back me up here."
Chris's dad looks up from his book, an utterly confused expression on his face. "What?"
Chris flops back and clutches his beer to his chest. "Never mind."
His mom chuckles, looking at Karl. "Robert's useless if he's reading. He'd miss the next world war if Tom Clancy'd just put out a new book."
"My youngest is like that. Although I don't think he's cracked into Clancy, yet."
"So are you sure they're your children?"
Chris doesn't even admonish, just buries his face in his hands and says, "Kill me now."
Karl rubs the top of Chris's head reassuringly. "Yeah, that's pretty much the one rule. Don't bring home diseases or other people's babies. Well, the second rule."
"The first being?"
"Communicate. And trust each other. Okay, three rules."
"Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition," Chris mutters into his beer.
Karl laughs, delighted. "I knew there was a reason I kept you."
"But wait, what do you trust each other to do? I mean, usually that means you trust each other not to sleep with anybody else, so…?" She looks at Karl expectantly.
Karl shrugs. "We trust each other not to be hurtful. We trust each other to listen. We trust each other to speak our minds and not let things fester, to be honest about what we want. We trust that no matter what, our family remains the most important thing, the bottom line, the foundation."
Silence.
"Well," Chris's mom says, sounding satisfied, "that all makes perfect sense to me."
Chris stands up. "Figures. Who needs another drink? Karl's driving so I guess it's just you and me, Mom. Extra dry?"
---
"What the hell is this game called again?" Karl crows from where he's doubled over the table, clutching his stomach in laughter.
"PIT!" Chris yells, unnecessarily loudly. "CORNER ON CORN."
"You Americans are god damn crazy people."
"Yeeeeahh," Chris says, leaning into him perhaps a mite drunkenly, "but you looooooove us. Sheep fucker."
"Christopher!"
"It's a term of endearment!"
Karl just looks at him, eyes shining. "I might just do, yeah."
---
"Christopher." His mom's voice is low, catching him as Karl says goodbye to his dad.
He looks down at her, and gathers her into his arms. "Yeah?"
"Are you sure you're okay with this?" He doesn't have to ask what she means. He just nods. She studies him a little longer. "And you're happy?"
He smiles. He looks over her shoulder to see Karl standing to the side, quietly watching.
"Yeah," he says. "I am."
---
"Eat all your veg, kiddo," Karl's saying into the phone when Chris pads into the living room in his pajama pants. He slides his arms around Karl's waist and rests his chin against a still-clothed shoulder. Karl's head tilts into Chris just a little. "Or I'll leave your best present here with Chris."
Chris can't hear Indy's reply, and kind of tunes out the rest of the conversation, sleepy and drunk and enjoying the warmth of Karl. Then:
"He's great. We're great." Karl listens, then laughs. "Yes, Nat, the sex is great, too." He reaches up a hand to scrub through Chris's hair lightly. "And I promise I won't knock him up."
"Hey!" Chris mumbles into his shoulder, burying his nose against the fabric. Maybe blowing a little, because he's seven. He hears the final endearments and 'I love you's and then registers Karl turning in his arms, rubbing kisses into Chris's temple and jaw and neck. Chris's cock stirs--he's drunk, yeah, but he's not dead.
He turns his head to capture Karl's mouth in a kiss, and it's just getting exciting, his hips getting along with Karl's thigh nicely, when Karl leans back enough to put their foreheads together. "You okay?"
Chris knows he means with the wife and kids, and bottom line Chris knows he'd rather have Karl than not have Karl, and that thought soothes the occasional twinge. "Don't tell me my mother made you doubt."
Karl huffs a laugh against Chris's cheek, even as his hand is finding its way into Chris's pants. "She wasn't that scary." He starts stroking, slow and hard, like he knows drunk!Chris likes it. Chris leans into it, leans until Karl is possibly the only thing holding him up, and he's distracted by, nay, surrounded by Karl's hand and Karl's warm breath and Karl's everything so he almost doesn't hear what Karl says next.
Then he stops short. "Did you just… did you just call my mother a Vulcan?"
Karl shrugs. "She kept saying 'fascinating'!"
"SCARRED, KARL. SCARRED FOR-- MMMFPH."
FIN